They tore at her left and right, and the pain was unbearable, as the field closed in. But some part of her told her that she had to keep running, that it was her only way out. On the horizon sat a huge, blood-red sun, and she could see her father’s silhouette outlined against it. She ran and ran, trying to reach him. But the sun suddenly set, so quickly, and the sky turned to black. In its place, a large, blood-red moon rose, filling the entire sky, and the thorns grew thicker, cutting Caitlin deeper. She knew that if she could reach her father, everything would be all right. He was getting closer, much closer, and within seconds, she stood before him. But when she looked up, at his face, it was no longer her father. It was Caleb. The thorns were closing in on him, too, wrapping around his legs, waist, arms, pulling at him. Then they crept up from behind and wrapped around his face, tearing and clawing at it. Blood streaked from his cheeks, from his forehead, and she could see his anguish.